


helga

by AnaGuedes



Series: Founders [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaGuedes/pseuds/AnaGuedes
Summary: Helga Hufflepuff final day
Series: Founders [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857319
Kudos: 1





	helga

It was one of her favourite places. Her muggle and magical plants often made her feel better, especially after she realized that the time was coming.

Helga Hufflepuff was wandering around her cabin in her old robes, still picking some herbs to brew some tea. The sun was setting, lighting the room with an orange sky, making her even more enamoured with how she would probably go from this world. She let the moment sink in, looking back at all her dedication to Hogwarts, and to her old friends - all resting in graves in different parts of the island.

She knew she had a good life despite it all. Helga had her own family, with a daughter - she hoped it came sooner, with a possibility to be friends with Rowena's child -, and became a grandmother three years ago. It was a process to let it go and make her passing alone, feeling like her old acquaintances. Being the last one of the four, Helga wanted to embrace the feeling she felt when each went their separate ways.

Although she left Hogwarts before Godric, Helga wished they stayed closer and shared more. Believer of loyalty, she felt lost when Salazar finally shared all his views with them, clashing with Godric like mad men. When the green-and-silver man left on the night of a great storm, Helga's happiness of founding family disappeared in thin air. It got worse after Rowena got ill and received the news of her daughter (that came to live in Hogwarts as a ghost and patron of her mother's legacy) - she wasn't able to share such information with Rowena, who died days later. 

Now, as old as she was, Helga dared to daydream of her younger days, when she used to hide in cabins in forests, trying and mixing plants and whatever found on site to create potions. Along with her dearest friend, she was adventurous to be one of the greatest witches of England, proving many times her loyalty and hard-working skills to create Hogwarts and bring elves into the kitchen of the castle, not letting them fear what was to come - and not serve masters. Her kindness was often mistaken as weakness, something she frequently had to disavow.

Helga paced slowly through her lodging. The scent of the candle burning made her smile and ease her desperation. Lost in thoughts, Helga would fall into a realm of self-destruction trying to save those she lost or if they would vanish themselves from the tale. The leaves were rushed inside by the wind, bringing golden from what once was the dusk of Welsh valley. At least she would die in a peaceful, blissful night.

She wondered if her old colleagues also felt their endings coming, if it was natural to understand their souls ready to live in another spectrum, to be ready to leave. Helga presaged in her bones, in her blood, her gist would be gone by next morning. She wanted it to be pleasant, not dwell or painful as she saw when visiting Rowena. Conversations with ghosts from Hogwarts were helpful to understand how it worked - or how each felt while happening. But it never occurred to her that it might be completely different from what believed it could be, especially after all these years.

Chasing demons inside her head, Helga rested in a chair close to the window. By candlelight, she observed the night sky, with stars shinning bright while the new moon was covered by the clouds. Drinking a herbal tea, she could picture her grandchild playing by the lawn, cherishing precious memories after her departure. Her daughter would settle in the cabin together with her husband, raising her family in a place part of history. Although pride wasn't one of her favourite characteristics, she was proud of her family - and what would become in unforeseeable future. Her golden cup would be the finest heirloom to her descendants.

Willing to shut her constant fight of memories once and for all, Helga mumbled some spells, flickering her hands to mimic the wands. She realized that every movement, every thought, would make her sentimental. Tears were rolling down her cheeks - but she didn't know if it was from happiness or sadness of leaving her precious land. The candle melting, the aroma of the grass, Helga tried to hold on to the minimals details, wanting to be able to leave with the sweetest memories. 

Helga could see the wind blowing the fields, making a symphony with cicadas all around. A melody that caused her skin to bristle. These little things made her glad, something she wasn't feeling at the beginning of the day. Slowly, Helga could feel her disappearance, letting everything go. She continued to watch the scene in front of her lawn, little fireflies contrasting with the stars in the sky. All felt a beautiful painting, reminder her that it was time. Her cold tea was left at a centrepiece, next to her golden cup and other belongings already divided to her peers. Even her wand was left aside, laying next to the candle melted.

She didn't know when, but her eyes closed, and she sensed her skin colder. Perhaps, it was something only wizards and witches would feel in their lifetime. Expecting her departure, Helga was at peace, reliving happier memories, and easier times. All worries, issues and questions flew away, out to the atmosphere, balancing what once made her crumble and pity herself. The badger-woman could finally sleep, dreaming of a place unknown. The wind blew one last time a leaf inside her cabin, in harmony with trees and cicadas creating a final chanson.

It wasn't surprising her daughter arriving at the earliest of morning. She took care of her mother, resting her in bed, covering in the yellow-and-black blanket she loved and cherish the most. For a while, she wasn't sure the best approach to such situation - knowing well her mother was the only one who had a family by her side. At last, she held her mother close and let tears roll down her face.

Owls were sent to the community that admired her, whose lessons would proceed through generations. Moreover, her kindness and loyalty are still the ones to exceed in her own children and apprentices (something a number of people in Hogwarts would understand in the cruellest way). Helga Hufflepuff would forever be known as one of the nicest woman to ever walk on Hogwarts grounds.


End file.
